It seemed uncanny, this dark departure from one's native land---the land for which these men were going to fight, to bleed and die! Yet there was no sense of fear.

It was the strangeness that gripped all minds.
Up forward on the spar deck a few enlisted men opened their mouths to sing.

The chorus grew in volume and the words rolled up: _"And I don't know where I'm going, but I'm on my way!"_ _"For I belong to the Regulars.

I'm proud to say."_ _"And I'll do my dooty-ooty, Night or day."_ _"I don't know where I'm going, But I'm on my way!"_ Breaking through the words the ship's deep-throated whistle boomed its own notes..